


Teach Me to Stay

by PythagoreanTeapot



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Eichen | Echo House, Episode: s03e20 Echo House, F/M, Gen, Missing Scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-24
Updated: 2017-02-08
Packaged: 2018-05-23 01:27:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6100312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PythagoreanTeapot/pseuds/PythagoreanTeapot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She's cold and broken and all she wants is to run and never come back. She can tell he's broken too, but he refuses to run. She finds herself wondering, what does he stay for? Missing scenes from 3x20 - Echo House from Malia's perspective.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is something I wrote ages ago and stumbled across the other day. Maybe somebody will enjoy it.

She didn’t owe him anything. 

Malia repeated the thought to herself as she paced the hallway. She’d just overheard the orderlies talking about Stiles. He’d been caught trying to get into the basement and had been sedated and locked in the Quiet Room. 

Not her business. She didn’t owe him anything.

They had a deal. She helped him get Brunski’s keys, he would get her help learning how to change. She’d already fulfilled her end of that bargain, earned his promise. It wasn’t her fault that he couldn’t unlock a door on his own.

But she couldn’t shake the memory of his eyes from her head. The fear lurking in them, the guilt. She recognised those, because it was the same fear and guilt that plagued her, the same feelings that made her desperate to shed this frail, emotional human skin and run. Run forever.

But he didn’t run. Not away, anyway. He seemed to run towards pain instead. She wondered how he did that, why.

But that wasn’t a reason to help him. He’d gotten into this mess on his own. It wasn’t her problem. 

Not her problem.

On the other hand, she reasoned, if he was locked in the Quiet Room he couldn’t get her the help he’d promised. She started moving with purpose now.

Just protecting her investment. Making sure he fulfilled his end of the deal. That was all.

She certainly wasn’t helping him out of curiosity. Didn’t matter that he might actually have a clue about how to keep standing with this constant gnawing shame inside her. The shame of what she’d done and what she could do. She didn’t need to know how not to run. She just needed to get back the legs that would let her.

And it’s not like this place was exactly thrilling. Well, sometimes it was terrifying, but most of the time it was boring. Staring at walls and tuning out the other patients. Sitting through stupid groups talking about stupid feelings that she never wanted to deal with. 

She paused to wait for one of the doctors to turn the corner then dashed to the door of the Quiet Room and snapped the lock.

She remembered the boy who had picked her up from the forest when she was newly human. He’d talked too much as he and Scott drove her to the sheriff’s station. He’d been wary, yes, and tired. Too much adrenaline in his blood. But he hadn’t been scared then. Not like this. 

He’d tried to make her laugh that day, had rambled incessantly about the things she’d missed while she was a coyote. She vaguely recalled him spouting off a list of things for her to google, though she hadn’t actually paid attention to what he’d put on that list. It was irritating and stupid, but in that moment, when she’d been overwhelmed by sensations and emotions, when the whole world hurt, it had been oddly comforting. She’d focussed her anger on his annoying voice, she realised now, and it had helped to filter out everything else.

But then he was gone, and she was left alone with her father in a world she barely remembered full of rules she didn’t understand. She hadn’t spared much thought for him since then. She was too consumed by the need to escape, trying to appease her father and figure out the answers that would make all the people staring at her just leave her alone. But then she’d broken one thing too many in her anger, or she’d snuck out in the middle of the night to sleep in the forest one too many times. Her dad had tried to tell her that this place would make her better, but she knew what he meant. His life had been simpler without her, like hers had been. They’d both been better off alone.

Stiles was passed out on the floor when she slipped into the Quiet Room. He was twitching and mumbling in his sleep. She couldn’t hear what he was saying, but he definitely didn’t seem happy. She wondered what had brought him to this place. She knew better than most that people could be broken in a matter of seconds, but still, this seemed a long way from the talkative boy she’d met in the woods.

Maybe he’d been broken then too. Maybe he just knew how to hide it in a way that she didn’t. Maybe he knew how to bear it. 

She tried to imagine having a normal human life despite the darkness inside her, but it wasn’t an image she could put together. And yet, it was alluring. The idea that he could teach her something other than growing fur. The possibility that running might not be the only solution.

No, she didn’t owe him anything, she reminded herself. She just didn’t have anything else to do. That was the only reason she was here.

She reached out to wake him up.

\---

She realised that it was kind of nice to be completely honest. Not that she was all that guarded with anybody else, but Stiles already knew the worst things about her. The things that she couldn’t tell her father or the psychiatrists. Well, things she couldn’t tell them without them turning the conversation to medication in any case. He didn’t make any demands or have any expectations. 

As they made their stealthy way through the closed ward Stiles surprised her by turning the conversation to her life. He apologised for invading her home, asked her about how she was dealing with this transition, whether she’d chosen to come here herself. But without the judgement or advice or disappointment that everyone else seemed to throw her way when they asked those questions. Stiles just listened, nodded, apologised for his part. None of those useless promises of “It’ll get easier” or “Just have patience”. In fact, he didn’t offer any words of wisdom, and yet he somehow made her feel less out of place in her own head. He didn’t offer any answers, but, with complete sincerity, he asked the right questions. The questions that reminded her of the things she’d gained, rather than the things she’d lost.

She found herself somewhat in awe of him by the time they made it to the basement door. He had this humanity thing figured out. She could practically see psychological scars all over him, but he didn’t shut down or run away. She wondered again if he could teach her that, if that was a skill that she could learn. Or was she better off running?

When they found the mark on the wall in the basement she saw it again, the flash of guilt in his eyes that she was so familiar with from her own expression. And fear too. The thought briefly flitted across her mind once more that it wasn’t her business or her problem, but she ignored it. She needed to know. The boy in front of her had seen things, had done things, and he was still standing, still human, still invested in the people around him. He even still had energy to spare to care about her. So she promised to give him what he’d already given her; an attentive ear and zero judgement.

He sighed and leaned back against the wall.

“There’s a dark spirit called a Nogitsune,” he began, “It feeds off of pain, strife, conflict. It takes pleasure in suffering. And it took control of me a few weeks ago.”

He lifted his shaking hands, staring down at them, and Malia knew he saw something else when he looked at them. “The things it did, the things I did…” His voice trembled, “I killed people. Good people. I hurt everyone that I love. Literally gutted my best friend with a sword. And I couldn’t stop it. I fought so hard but I couldn’t stop it.” 

He closed his hands into fists and looked back up at her as he continued “And now I’m in control again, but it isn’t going to last. I’m running on borrowed time. The Nogitsune could seize control again any day and I know…” He took a steadying breath, “I know that when it does that’s going to be it for me. It will rain terror and destruction on everyone around me and I won’t be able to stop it.

“But there has to be something here, because I’ve been here before. It was only in a dream, but it was exactly the same.” He placed his hand on the kanji again, “That has to mean something.”

She was silent for a moment, aware of the tension in him as he waited for her response.

“Okay,” Her direct tone made him glance up, “So where do we start looking for this something?”

A look of gratitude replaced the grief on his face as he looked at her and he even managed a smile.

“I guess those boxes are the best bet.”

\---

She felt warm.

That’s what she remembered most as she lay in his arms afterwards. She had felt warm. Naked in this frigid basement with just his hands, his lips, his touch to keep her from freezing, and she had felt warm all the way to her core. There’d been some fumbling, some uncertainty, some discomfort, but they’d laughed at those moments and that laughter just made her feel warmer. Made her feel content.

Made her feel human.

Granted, the warmth hadn’t lasted very long and they had to get dressed pretty quickly after, but then he’d just pulled her back into his arms and with her back pressed to his chest she felt warm again. 

And she got it.

This was humanity. This contact, this common emotion and experience. This was what walking around on two legs was all about. This was what he was fighting to hold on to no matter how terrified he was of what the Nogitsune might do to him, or because of him. This was what he was going to lose, possibly forever, if they couldn’t find something down here to help him keep a hold of himself.

Self. She glanced across the room as a thought occurred to her and his name tumbled from her lips as she pulled herself up.

\---

There was buzzing. 

Some kind of buzzing.

Right next to her face.

She felt a hand on her head and tried to move but found she couldn’t even open her eyes. 

The buzzing got closer.

“Oliver”

The buzzing stopped. 

She heard footsteps. She needed to know what was happening. Something crashed to the floor near her. She rolled her head to the side and managed to drag her eyes open a crack.

“Stiles?” She could see him, standing right next to the chair she was bound to.

He glanced towards her and through the haze of drugs she saw his face. The guilt was gone, along with the fear, and any compassion. He smiled at her and she knew even before he turned and walked away. Stiles was gone.

\---

It took her a long time to break out of the straps holding her down. A long time for the Haldol to wear off enough. By the time she tore herself free of the chair it was almost dawn. 

She picked her way across the paper strewn floor to the hole they’d made in the wall. She picked up the photo that Stiles had dropped. “I’ve got to get this to Scott”. That was the last thing he’d said. Maybe the last thing Stiles would ever say unless someone could save him. She reached through the wall and dragged out the sword. Well, she didn’t have a clue how to save him, but she could get these to Scott.

She didn’t even spare a glance at Oliver on her way up the stairs.

\---

Morrell had fast tracked her release when Malia stormed into her office with a sword saying she needed to leave. Malia didn’t stop to question why when it meant that she was on her way within a few hours of Stiles disappearance. 

Following Morrell’s directions, she soon found herself in front of a quiet house in the suburbs. A drop of anxiety swept through her at the thought of facing the alpha who forced her into this life, but she steeled her resolve with the thought of Stiles’ kindness, and his fear.

She was half way up the steps when the front door burst open and Scott McCall came charging out, helmet in hand. He froze when he saw her.

“M-Malia?” His expression was perplexed.

“I just came from Eichen House,” She got straight to the point, but hesitated when she saw his face light up with hope.

“You’ve seen Stiles?” He asked.

She braced herself for his reaction, “Stiles is gone.”

It was more or less what she expected. Pain, grief, and fear flitted across his face. 

“When you say gone… do you mean…?” He trailed off, unable to say the words.

“I mean,” She clarified, “when I saw him, before he disappeared from the building completely, he wasn’t Stiles anymore.” 

Scott dropped his helmet and let his knees collapse beneath him, sliding down the wall to sit on the porch.

“How much do you know about this?” He asked weakly.

“He told me about the Nogitsune.” She replied, “We broke into the basement because he said he’d been there before, or that he dreamed he’d been there before, and we found this mark on the wall down there. He said it meant self.”

“He was in the basement?” Scott’s voice was a whisper.

“We broke down the wall and behind the mark was a body, wrapped in bandages. Stiles recognised the body, said that it was the Nogitsune.” She held out the bundle of fabric she’d wrapped the sword in and dug the photo out of her pocket, “This was with the body, and the photo was in the pocket of the jacket it was wearing. Stiles said he recognised someone in the photo. He said he had to get it to you. That’s when we were attacked by one of the other patients.”

Scott gingerly took her offerings, but didn’t unwrap the fabric or look at the photo as she continued.

“Oliver drugged me. I don’t know what happened next, but when I came to Oliver was unconscious and Stiles… Stiles was gone. He was still there, he looked at me when I called his name, but then he just smiled and left me tied to a chair. He wasn’t Stiles.”

Malia crouched down to watch Scott’s face as he finally examined the things she’d handed him.

“Can you save him?” She asked.

Shock flooded his face when he saw the photo, but resolve took its place when he looked up at her.

“Yes,” His voice was determined as he pulled himself to his feet, “I don’t know exactly how yet, but now I know exactly who to ask.”

She stood as well and nodded at his answer. “Good,” She stepped back, “I should go. My dad will have heard that I left Eichen House by now.”

“Malia,” His voice made her pause as she turned to leave, “Thank you. For helping Stiles, for bringing this. I don’t think there’s anything I can do to repay this.”

She remembered her deal with Stiles; that Scott would help her control the change if she helped him. Control that would allow her to finally get out of this cold human skin. But somehow the idea had become less appealing in the last day and instead she found herself asking for something completely different.

“Save him. That’ll be enough.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been trying to consolidate all of my scattered files and came across this one again. Turns out there was more to this story that I had chosen not to post for whatever reason. But today I kind of like it so here it is.

She was following her dad through the hallways of the hospital when a scent made her freeze. She hadn’t been able to make much sense of the smells around her since she changed. Her human nose just didn’t make sense of things the way her coyote senses did. But she recognized his scent straight away.

Malia hesitated for a moment. She could keep walking, following her father to the elevators and down to the parking lot. But the mantra of _It’s not my problem_ had stopped working when it came to Stiles. So instead she turned away from the path her father had taken and followed her senses down a side corridor.

She heard his voice first.

“Can’t you talk him out of this?” He _sounded_ relatively sane. “Can’t you tell him I’m not dying and then we can all get out of this horrible place and never come back?”

“Okay, first of all,” a female voice answered him, “No one is going to talk your dad out of this. He needs to see it for himself. Secondly, I don’t know how it works! Just because I don’t _know_ that you’re dying now doesn’t mean that I know that you’re _not_ dying. And thirdly, I think it’s a little too optimistic of you to think that we won’t be back here for one reason or another way too soon.”

Malia heard Stiles sigh as she stepped around the corner. He was sitting in a chair halfway down the hallway wearing a hospital gown, next to a girl with red hair and ridiculously impractical shoes.

“I know,” He murmured, “I just really don’t want to go into that machine again.”

Malia stepped forward, “Stiles?”

The pair looked up at her and Stiles seemed to jerk in shock.

“Malia!” He jolted to his feet, “What are you-“

“Are you Stiles?” Malia interrupted suspiciously.

“Ah, yeah,” He ran his fingers nervously through his hair, “Yep. Just me in here. Oni verified.”

Malia frowned in confusion when he turned his head and pulled his ear forward like that would somehow answer her question. Instead she looked at the girl next to him and repeated her question.

“Is he Stiles?” She demanded.

The girl smiled faintly as she stood up as well.

“Yes. He’s Stiles.” She stepped forward and held out her hand, “And I’m Lydia.”

“Right!” Stiles gestured frenetically between them, “Introductions! Lydia, Malia; Malia, Lydia. Lydia’s providing moral support because I have to get an MRI done and the last time I went in that machine I wasn’t the one who walked out so I’m kind of a bit anxious and really don’t want to have to do it especially since I’m really like 97% certain that it’s not necessary because of the whole evil fox spirit thing and that’s really definitely over so I’m almost certainly not dying anymore but my Dad isn’t willing to take that on faith since the last scans were… you know… um…concerning…” His nervous rambling trailed off then took a deep breath before speaking again, “What are you doing here?”

“I’m meant to be starting school on Monday and they said I had to get some vaccines first.” She said, gesturing vaguely behind her to indicate the mysterious “they” who made these demands.

“Really? School! That’s awesome.” Enthusiasm filled his voice this time as he started rambling again, “Yeah, there was a measles outbreak a few years back and they made it compulsory for every student to have the MMR vaccine unless they could get a doctor to verify that they had a medical reason –“

“Stiles.” It was his dad who interrupted this time, stepping out of one of the rooms, “They’re ready for you now.”

Malia saw the flash of fear cross Stiles face before he covered it with determination.

“Right. Okay. Let’s get this over with.” He stepped towards his dad before pausing and looking back at Malia.

“Malia,” He was tentative now, “Thanks. For helping me. For getting the sword to Scott. It was really important.”

“Yeah,” She shrugged, “Not like it was hard.”

He smiled, “Yeah, getting tied to a chair and threatened with trepanation is a walk in the park.”

He took a step in the direction his father had come from. “Well, I should –” He flapped his hand towards the door instead of finishing the sentence, “But I guess I’ll see you at school. We can talk then about… everything.”

The Sheriff nodded at her and Lydia gave a tiny wave as they followed Stiles through the door. Malia stood still for a beat after they left, a smile easing onto her face. School with Stiles. That sounded pretty good actually.

Grinning, she turned away to find her father.

…

 

 


End file.
